


sweet

by side_stories (dear_dunyazade)



Category: American Dad!
Genre: Drug Use, Emotional drug user Jeff, Other, This is really the first thing I’m posting since October 2019 huh?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24732001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dear_dunyazade/pseuds/side_stories
Summary: Roger introduces a new drug to Jeff, who finds himself on a rollercoaster of emotion
Relationships: Jeff Fischer & Roger Smith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	sweet

“It’s from lands in Pajah. Have you ever heard of that, Jeffrey?”

Jeff thinks he nods to Roger’s inquiry, but he doesn’t know. He feels the name on his lips: Pajah. Pa-jaa. Paa-ja. All he tastes is sweet. He loves how  _ heavy  _ his eyes feel, and how  _ soft  _ these pillows are. They make him think about Hayley, how soft her skin is, how heavy a handhold with her is. It carries weight, promise.

“And taste  _ this‒ _ oh, Sugarplum Sisters with Nodding Belles? Oh, Jeffrey, aren’t you lucky to have a connoisseuring sonofabitch like me in your life?” Roger reaches and touches the human hand beside his, knowing what just that feels like under this spell. And indeed, Jeff is lucky, and his eyes roll back and every follicle tingles and his toes curl and his head rocks side to side. The air around him is sweet, too, and fills his nose and he  _ laughs _ , hard. Everything is sweet and perfect. 

No--not perfect. Not yet. Hayley’s still missing from beside him. His right side is cold, his hand missing hers, her hair not tickling his neck. Jeff’s eyes fix on a painting, hung on the ceiling, encaptured in a golden frame. It features Hayley, in her scarlet dress, as beautiful as ever, with her eyes gazing to the crowd of Roger’s Spot, glossed lips sultry and full and skin shimmering under the spotlight. An Adonis sits at the piano behind her, eyes downcast and lips frowning, focusing on nothing but the keys. At the bar leans a man Jeff can’t remember, but still knows, deep in his psyche. He has thick, sharp hair and dark eyes, a scruff of beard styled to the point it looks more like a costume than actual, real facial hair, with an admittedly dashing suit with a barely buttoned shirt. Even through a painting, he reeks of cheap riches, of mysterious business in alleys and pool halls. The man clutches a Dom Perignon, lips parted as he looked at Hayley, enraptured. Jeff can’t help but notice a bloodied bat resting on the bar beside the man.

“I see you admiring my painting.” Jeff wets his eyes and turns them to Roger. “It’s nothing, really, just had a friend of mine whip it up one night, back when Hayley was working for me. Her tatas were all over, but that  _ voice _ . Something out of… oh, forgive the cliche, but, heaven.” 

Jeff agrees. Hayley doesn’t sing much anymore, but he can still hear it sometimes. When she’s painting, or heating up mac and cheese after a smoke, her voice will fill the room, whether she realizes or not. 

“You want it? I’ve got some guy on Ebay who keeps saying he’ll pay, but every time I go to him, it’s all, ‘Oh, my check wasn’t enough this week’ and ‘My girl needs the money for her Plan B.’ People these days, no manners.”

Jeff tries to listen, and understand what Roger is saying. But before he feels it, tears have formed and dripped down his scruffy cheeks, while his mind whispers of Hayley. Of how much he loves her, how utterly beautiful and smart and good she is, how lucky he is to be  _ hers _ . Jeff sobs, his mind rushing between love and desire and loneliness and the heaviness of his skull. Everything is pushing and pulling him, and he can’t breathe and his heart is on fire.

“Oh, my. Yeah, the uppers and downers can’t always be easy for newbies.” Roger wipes his face, chuckling. “I always forget you humans have such limits. ‘Specially the younger ones, like you.” Roger chuckles nasally. 

Jeff isn’t sure how young Roger thinks he is, but he doesn’t say anything. This patting and talking has already helped, and he feels his eyes falling again. 

“Yeah, it’s all right, Jeff. I won’t leave ya.” Roger smooths his hair back and he vaguely realizes his hat isn’t on his head, but he doesn’t mind. Roger holds him and kisses his forehead like his mom used to, and he eventually finds sleep. 

And everything is sweet. 


End file.
